It's a tricky line, that. When I'm sitting there at work, doing my best to hold myself together - to not let the impaired motor skills, the emerging sweat, the mind fuzz show - I really want to pretend things are totally okeh. (Not "okay" - because they're not. Just "okeh".) Sitting in that silence, I can pull it off.
But when someone comes up to me, at that worst possible moment - the charade is up. My cover; blown.
"Kim, do you know who these forms go to?"
"...um, I think... 4th floor?" (Everything comes out sounding like a question.)
"Okay... but do you know who specifically?"
"It's... um... maybe, Cassandra? I'mnotsure?"
An in-range Kim could answer that question definitively. With far less vocal fillers. But when I'm not - when I'm that kind of low that makes me want to muffle my CGM receiver in some far crevasse of my purse, and curl up under my desk for a nap - I struggle to string together words, and I just hope that they make any small amount of sense.
There are around 100 people in my building, and I don't want to have to explain to each one of them that heeeey, I've got a low blood sugar right now. Which, oh yeah, means I have diabetes. It's not always a conversation I want to have while my insides are riding some sort of rollercoaster. I just want to get that conversation over with, and move on.
But the risk of that decision is that I likely come across as an airhead.
Which, actually, would be exactly what I need right about then.
***I have not yet heard from Friday's giveaway winner, "Life as an Empty Nester". If that's you, would you please send me an email at textingmypancreas (at) gmail (dot) com with your name and phone number? If I have not heard from Friday's winner by the end of tomorrow (6/21), I'll be choosing a new winner at random from the remaining entrants!
Thank you for sharing Kim. Your posts are so wonderful because through your words I really get the emotion and can almost feel what you feel, which helps me to understand what Sarah feels better than she can articulate it. Sarah had a moment in school like this a few weeks ago, when she was asked to read and couldn't seem to remember how (she'd had PE earlier and for some reason hadn't been paying attention to her CGM). I'm not sure how low she was (I think she started eating before testing), but it must have been pretty low.
ReplyDeleteAh yes, I hate the fuzzy brain that comes along with a low. In my mind, I think, "please...just don't talk to me right now because it's way too hard to form thoughts and give you a response!"
ReplyDeletei so get it! i work in a grocery store as a cashier. i rarely get any indication of lows. once while at work, i finally noticed the sweaty shakey feeling whilst in the middle of someones order. by the time they were ready to cash out i had no idea how to total their order, open my till, or make change. i looked at our supervisor (who just happened to be walking by) and started to cry. i told her i didn't "know how to do this". thankfully she took over and another cashier brought me some orange juice. problem solved. now i bring oj and sweet tarts to work with me and test every 2 hrs!!!
ReplyDeleteOooh, that feeling. Always seems to come at the worst time. I create barcode tickets at work, the other day I was typing "Santa/Wine" for a holiday order and it came out as Satan/Wine! THAT would've been cute if a customer saw it! Luckily I caught myself...if the words don't make sense on paper - time for a snack!!!
ReplyDeleteThis is insightful for me as a caregiver Kim. Thank you. It is so difficult to know how Joe is feeling at certain times when his numbers are outta whack. I used to love Air Heads btw!!! Yummo.
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